dry, grassy foothills through which we
were winding our way, was like that of deep winter set opposite to early
September. However, I would not permit Zulime to exhaust her vocabulary
of admiration. "Keep some of your adjectives till we reach Ouray," I
said with significant gravity.

Before the train came to a stop at the platform of Colorado Springs, I
caught sight of the red, good-humored face of Gustave, coachman for
Louis Ehrich, one of my Colorado friends. Gustave was standing beside
the road wagon in which I had so often ridden, and when he saw me
alight he motioned to me. "You are to come with me," he explained as I
approached. "I have orders to bring you at once to the house--breakfast
is waiting for you."

I had written to the Ehrichs, saying that my wife would be with me in
the Springs for a few days, and that I wanted them to meet her--but I
did not expect to be met or to receive an invitation to breakfast.

Zulime hesitated till I assured her that the Ehrichs were old friends
and not the kind of people who say one thing and mean another. "They
will never permit us to go to the hotel--I know them." With that she
consented, and fifteen minutes later Louis and Henriette met us at their
threshold and took Zulime to their hearts, as though they had known her
for years.

The house stood on the bank of a stream, and, from the windows of the
room they gave us, the Lord of the Range loomed in distant majesty
directly above the Garden of the Gods, and our first day of married life
was filled with splendor. Each hour of that day had for us its own
magical color, its own drama of flying cloud and resisting rock. From
the commonplace Kansas village we had been transported as if by an
enchanted carpet to a land of beauty and romance, of changeful charm, a
region of which I was even then beginning to write with joyous
inspiration. That my bride and I would forever recall this day and this
house with gratitude and delight I was even then aware.

"This compensates for the humble scene of our wedding, doesn't it?" I
demanded.

"It is more than I dreamed of having," she replied.

In truth no blood relations could have been more sympathetic, more
generous, more considerate than the Ehrichs. They rejoiced in us.
Skilled and happy hosts, they did their utmost to make our honeymoon an
unforgettable experience. Each hour of our stay was arranged with
kindness. We drove, we ate, we listened to music, with a grateful wonder